So I’m (not) going to be turning 15 tomorrow. Not that you’d know it given my penchant for the fictional undead (seriously, a total obsession for vampires) and the absolute anxiety I feel whenever I have to buy concert tickets.
I’ll let it be known right from the start that, yes, I did manage to buy tickets to see Muse IN DECEMBER. I mean, how the hell do I know KNOW what I’m planning to be doing on December 14? I could be in Las Vegas (in fact, there is such a plan).
So I planned to log in for the fan pre-sale and that’s where the anxiety started. JJ and I were heading up the country estate on Thursday night. Yes, we have this Virgin wireless dongle for the Internet but who knows what can happen? Can the technology be guaranteed? Will the wireless cables freeze over? (I mean, it’s really cold up there in the bush).
I have reason to be anxious, especially after the Jimmy Barnes Ticket Fiasco of 1984. My cousin Nancy and I had saved desperately. I busted open the money box and we got to Myer at Highpoint and queued outside the doors a few hours before opening. Now, I haven’t queued up for tickets for a long time thanks to the Internet so Idon’t know what the deal is these days but there used to be a roller door and you’d be all friendly-like with the others waiting for tickets but as soon as the roller door had lifted just enough, all bets were off and the nails would come out. We’d slide under that door and run up the escalator to be the first at the real ticket queue and I’d almost piss myself waiting for the slow people in front who picked tickets for some freaking Opera or something. They were ANNOYING SLOW PEOLE and in the meantime I was imagining that all of the smart people had just picked up their phones – a spare one in the shape of a hamburger that sat beside their bed – and would call and buy ALL of the tickets and they would just sell out right in front of my face.
But that’s not how it transpired that fateful year.
Nancy and I got to the counter and we counted out our coins – seriously we had busted open the money box and we had just enough money for the tickets. But not the booking fee.
NOT THE BOOKING FEE.
But I’m nothing if not determined and we trammed our asses all the way home to beg my mum for a couple of measly bucks (which is another story).
These days you just have to hit refreshand hope you don’t get kicked off the site. And you’ve always got enough money. Thank you Mr Mastercard.
But the anxiety is still there. It is. I get the sweats, that nauseous feeling that I’m going to miss out. That every single ticket is going to sell out right in front of my face.
Last year I joined the Glamourpuss Studios tap dancing academy. For shits and giggles.
This year, I decided that travelling ACROSS THE RIVER just wasn’t on. Now, normally, it’s the folk from the other side of town who don’t like to cross the river but I’m well-and-truly guilty of reverse classism.
But the thing is, I found a tap dance school right up the road. I mean, how could I pass THAT up?
Well let me tell you how. There was a girl in my first (and only) class who was making some cute moves and the teacher said – I shit you not – “Who do you think you are? A showgirl?” Like it was a bad thing?
I mean… YES!
So that, along with this (below) is why I’m heading back to the other side. Technically I travel AROUND the river to St Kilda, not across it.
Hold the presses! I know, right? I’m the only one.
I can’t believe that I’ve become an avid internet shopper. I mean, what about the sensual experience that you can only get from walking into a shop, trying something on, squishing the new wool, smelling the pure leather, sliding your fingers across the surface of a porcelain plate or noticing the resin drips on the surface of a painting.
Well there’s still a place for that but the veritable enormity of products online means that the world is not just your oyster, it’s your clam, your very own pharmacy and art gallery all at your fingertips.
Sometimes both at once. Take this example. I’ve been looking for an interesting spice rack to go in my new kitchen and discovered this:
But they don’t ship to Australia! So I decided to get creative. Who knew you can buy real test tubes on the interwebs? WHO KNEW?
I mean, I know you can get anything, but test tubes?
And then I discovered all this other stuff I seriously didn’t know I needed.
So for weeks now, JJ has been teasing me about how he’s got me the best birthday present ever and how he’s completely outdone himself. Now, I happen to find that hard to believe because, well, here’s a very short list of the birthday presents I’ve received from him over the years:
Shopping trip to Penang. I know. It’s pretty freaking extravagant , but seriously, it’s just that we have no kids. And anyway, I saved us SO much money buying fashion in Asia.
Red and black cord coat from Dizingof
A necklace from William Griffiths not too dissimilar to this one (except mine has a heart instead of a gun!)
So he’s pretty good, right?
Well, I have to say that all that stuff is pretty ordinary compared to this year’s pressie on a number of fronts. I mean, he ACTUALLY managed to keep it a secret, and even managed to get Momo and Tim to keep it secret.
When Momo was in town recently after her superstar jaunt to the Australian Fashion Festival, I yelled at her thus:
“Tell me what he freaking got me for my birthday.”
To which she replied:
I don’t care for surprises, just like I don’t like to know what I’m having for dinner. There have been many disapproving conversations with JJ that have gone something like this:
JJ: What do you want for dinner?
Me: Oh I dunno, can’t you just decide?
JJ: How about macadamia chicken?
Me: Really? Can it get any more caloric?
JJ: Asian noodle soup with silverbeet?
Me: Silverbeet, hey? Hmm, sounds boring.
JJ: [Big annoyed sigh] Steak and salad.
JJ: Forget it. I’m just going to make something and you’ll love it.
It’s true. I mostly do love it.
I prefer a surprise when I don’t know I’m getting one. By all means, surprise me, just don’t let me know about it because it’ll drive me crazy!
But it was all worth it this year because BEHOLD!
JJ COMISSIONED A PIECE OF ART BY ONE OF MY FAVOURITE ARTISTS, CHRISTINA GORDON. You may have noticed a link to her artwork on this site. She’s glorious and talented and I love her and I love this! Its called “Yoyo and Peaches perform“. How clever of her to know that Peaches would be the one jumping through the hoop while Yoyo cowers… THANK YOU JJ AND THANK YOU CHRISTINA.
Oh yeah, my birthday’s in a few weeks… He couldn’t keep it a secret that long.
So on Sunday, my friend’s 10-year-old came over. It was his 10th birthday and we’d given him some smooth cashola – because we know what kids want…
Anyway, so I ask him what he’s going to get with him money and he says, “an ACDC” CD.
And I say, oh, you need some musical education. Because this is the same kid I gave my guitar to last year.
He’s going to be a rock god and he’ll have me to thank. So I’ve taken it upon myself to educate him. Musically.
So I say: “Tell you what, I’ll make you a mix tape*”.
And he says: “A what?”
And I think that when he’s old enough, I’ll have to lend him “Love is a Mix Tape” by Rob Sheffield because nothing says LOVE like a mix tape.
Like the author, I too used to listen to Casey Kasem’s American Top 40 in the 80s and I’d madly try to tape my favourite tracks but Kasem’s voiceover always ruined the beginning and then end of the songs, but what was I going to do? Records were expensive and I didn’t have a job!